Reading Deathly Hallows Before Fifth Year
by Irishgirl14
Summary: A day after the final battle, Harry is sent back to the summer before fifth year to read the Deathly Hallows with the people currently at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, was asleep in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. He was experiencing the best sleep he'd had in years. It was a well-deserved sleep as he had just defeated Voldemort. But his life was not to stay calm for very long as a golden light flashed, and, after it faded, Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen.

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was quiet. The teenagers were asleep in their rooms. In Ron and Harry's room, a golden light flashed, and Harry Potter disappeared and was replaced with an older, more battle-worn version.

The next morning, the adults, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Remus, Sirius, Tonks, and Mad-Eye, were in the kitchen waiting for the rest of the Order to join them for breakfast before the meeting. As Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore entered Number Twelve and Fred, George, Ginny, and Hermione drifted downstairs, a scream echoed from upstairs.

Harry Potter had been awoken by Ron Weasley's scream and had reacted instinctively by pointing his wand at the boy. After realizing there was not an immediate threat to be dealt with, he lowered his wand. As he heard footsteps running up the stairs, he noticed, being the perceptive person he is, that the Ron Weasley staring at him in horror was not the same Ron who had traveled with him for the last year (he chose to forget the horrible time when he wasn't there).

Before Harry had time to process this fact or his surroundings, the door burst open and fifteen wands were pointed directly at him. His first thought was to point his at them, but instinct told him not to do it—they were tense enough already.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded.

This question caused Harry to finally notice who all was in the room. He counted; seven of the wands pointed at him were being held by people who were dead. "What day is it?" Harry asked to no one in particular.

"I asked you who you were," Dumbledore replied.

Harry knew he should explain his theory so that they might calm down, but he had to be sure first, and telling them he was Harry would cause more harm than good. "I'll answer you after you answer me. Please. It's important that I know your answer first, Professor."

Harry could see the shock on everyone's face at his reply. He saw Dumbledore hesitating and took advantage. "Look, Professor, I've already got a guess. Will you at least confirm it?" Dumbledore nodded. "It's the summer before my fifth year, isn't it?"

Dumbledore nodded at the same time Bill said, "Your fifth year?"

Harry turned to Bill. "Yes, my fifth year. I'm Harry Potter."

"You're not," interrupted Hermione.

"True, I'm not the Harry you know, but I am Harry."

Sirius spoke up, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I believe that if we all stay quiet this young man could explain," Dumbledore subtly scolded them all.

"I don't know for sure, of course, what is going on, but I do have a theory. And my theories are usually at least somewhat right. You see, when I fell asleep, it was May of my seventh year. When I woke up a few minutes ago, I realized that I was now in the time before my fifth year."

No one said anything. Harry could tell that they were skeptical, but he didn't know what else to say.

"How did you realize so quickly what time you were in?" Dumbledore questioned Harry.

"That's a question I was hoping to avoid."

"Why?" Remus asked.

Harry turned to look at his honorary uncle. "Because none of you are going to like my answer."

"All the same, I'd like it," Dumbledore brought Harry's attention back to himself hoping to meet his eyes.

"I'd look into your eyes, Professor, if I believed you wouldn't use Legilimency on me. I'll answer your questions willingly as best I can. You don't need to pull the answers you're looking for from my mind."

Dumbledore was shocked into silence. Snape spoke up. "And how are we to know if you're telling the truth then," he sneered.

Harry shrugged; he didn't have an answer to that. "I knew I was in the past, because, in the time when I fell asleep, seven of the people currently standing in front of me are dead." Harry did not stop to let this sink in. "I knew it was fifth year, because one of those seven died at the end of my fifth year. And I knew it was the summer before fifth year, because one of you was injured and in St. Mungo's during most of the Christmas holidays."

The fifteen people in the room with Harry had no response. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "Why are you here?"

"I don't know. I went to sleep in my own time and woke up almost three years in the past."

Dumbledore lowered his wand and the others followed his lead. "I believe what you have said."

"Thank you, Professor. I know—" a quick flash of light interrupted Harry. When the light faded, a note was floating down and landed on Harry's lap. The outside of the note read "For Harry's Eyes Only," so Harry proceeded to open the note and read it to himself.

Dear Harry,

I'm sorry about not interfering sooner, but I needed you to tell them about the upcoming deaths so that they might be more likely to participate. You see, I sent you back in time (with some help) to read a book. It is about your seventh year, your hunt for the horcruxes and your victory over Voldemort. It is written from your point of view, and I am sorry about that too, but it was the best way to cover the most important things. I ask that you do not give away anything that happens during the book, but you will need to explain some things that happened before the book begins. I know it will be hard, but this is your chance to change things. Use your knowledge, and make a difference. I'm counting on you to protect people (mainly Snape) from any hexes that might be sent their way. The book is downstairs on the kitchen table. There is a note on it for everyone, including you, to read/hear.

Good Luck!

T.R.L.

Harry looked up.

"What does it say?" McGonagall asked.

"It says that I was sent back to read a book with you, a book about your future and my past to be exact. It's waiting for us downstairs in the kitchen."

Everyone's faces showed shock and/or disbelief. Finally, Hermione said, "So it's about either our fifth, sixth, or seventh year then?"

Harry smiled at her. "Very good, Hermione. It's about our seventh year. Though, I'm sure things that happened our fifth and sixth year will be mentioned."

"I suppose we should head downstairs then," Remus spoke up. Everyone nodded their heads, but no one moved. So, Harry, knowing that they needed to get started, stood up and walked past everyone out the door and down the stairs. As predicted, the group followed.

When they entered the kitchen, all eyes, except for Mad-Eye's magical one that was still supervising Harry, were drawn to the book sitting at the head of the table. "There's another note," Bill pointed out to everyone.

Harry approached it. "It's addressed to everyone." He opened it and read aloud:

Dear Everyone,

Time outside of Grimmauld Place has stopped. You need not worry about Voldemort acting or you being interrupted. I'm sure Harry already told you, but I'll say it again. You are all here to read a book. This book will hopefully help the demise of Voldemort come sooner. Harry will explain, to the best of his ability, anything you have questions about. However, in answer to some of your questions, he will simply tell you to wait. I ask that you be patient and allow the book to fill you in at the appropriate time. After you read the book, you will have a choice to make. If you choose to attempt to change the future, then Harry will take the appearance of his 15-year-old self while keeping his 17-year-old mind. If you choose to let things play out as they did, then your memories of this event will be wiped away and the time will reverse to before the Harry in front of you replaced the Harry who came yesterday. Please do not pass judgment on anyone until the book is complete.

T.R.L.

"Who's T.R.L.?" Remus asked. Though no one answered, he noticed Harry's mysterious smile. "Do you know who T.R.L. is?"

Harry's smile widened. "I have a guess, but if I tell you what it is, then it would give away part of the story."

"You're going to be doing that to us a lot, aren't you?" Sirius asked his godson.

"Most definitely," he responded.

There was an awkward silence until, "Can we eat breakfast now?" Ron broke the tension.

Molly was flustered. "Oh, yes, of course. Sit down, dears."


	2. Chapter 2: In Memoriam

Please don't expect updates this often on a usual bases. I don't have a lot of time to work on my stories. What college student does?

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

After breakfast was over, they all moved to the living room and settled down.

"I suppose I'll read first," Dumbledore announced. He opened the book and read, "**In Memoriam**.I suppose we'll find out fairly quickly who one of the seven is."

"Two of the seven," Harry corrected him, having a good idea what this chapter was about. Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, and then continued to read.

**Harry was bleeding. **

"What a way to start," Sirius interrupted.

At the same time, Hermione said, "Oh, what have you done now?"

**Clutching his right hand in his left and swearing under his breath, he shouldered open his bedroom door. There was a crunch of breaking china. He had trodden on a cup of cold tea that had been sitting on the floor outside his bedroom door.**

"What the —?" Sirius began, but he was cut off by a stern laugh and a chuckle from Dumbledore.

**"What the -?"**

Now, Sirius laughed as well.

**He looked around, the landing of number four, Privet Drive, was deserted. Possibly the cup of tea was Dudley's idea of a clever booby trap. **

"That's a stupid…" Fred started.

"…Booby trap," George finished.

**Keeping his bleeding hand elevated, Harry scraped the fragments of cup together with the other hand and threw them into the already crammed bin just visible inside his bedroom door. Then he tramped across to the bathroom to run his finger under the tap.**

**It was stupid, pointless, irritating beyond belief that he still had four days left of being unable to perform magic…**

"Those last days are the hardest," Sirius said. Everyone over age seventeen nodded their agreement.

**but he had to admit to himself that this jagged cut in his finger would have defeated him. He had never learned how to repair wounds, and now he came to think of it – particularly in light of his immediate plans – this seemed a serious flaw in his magical education. **

"Perhaps we should teach the students some basic healing charms, Albus," McGonagall suggested.

**Making a mental note to ask Hermione how it was done, **

"When in doubt, ask Hermione," Harry commented. "It's a good motto."

**he used a large wad of toilet paper to mop up as much of the tea as he could before returning to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.**

**Harry had spent the morning completely emptying his school trunk for the first time since he had packed it six years ago. **

"Harry!" Hermione scolded.

**At the start of the intervening school years, he had merely skimmed off the topmost three quarters of the contents and replaced or updated them, leaving a layer of general debris at the bottom – old quills, desiccated beetle eyes, single socks that no longer fit. **

"Gross," Ginny commented.

**Minutes previously, Harry had plunged his hand into this mulch, experienced a stabbing pain in the fourth finger of his right hand, and withdrawn it to see a lot of blood.**

**He now proceeded a little more cautiously. Kneeling down beside the trunk again, he groped around in the bottom and, after retrieving an old badge that flickered feebly between SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY and POTTER STINKS, **

"What's that from?" Sirius asked.

At the same time, Hermione asked, "Why would you keep that?"

Harry answered his godfather first. "In fourth year, when I was chosen to be a champion, the whole school thought that I'd cheated the age line and put my own name in the cup. A lot of them weren't happy about that, especially the Hufflepuffs. Those badges were a common sight at the beginning of the tournament."

Most of the adults look appalled. "Oh, Harry, dear. That's awful," Molly fretted.

Harry shrugged. "It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. I'm used to it."

"What do you mean, you're 'used to it'?" Remus questioned.

"Well, in first year, Hermione, Neville, and I lost Gryffindor a hundred points each and the entire school, except Slytherin, shunned us. In second year, the school shunned me because they thought I was the heir of Slytherin when I spoke Parseltongue at the Dueling Club. I already explained fourth year. Fifth year, everyone thinks I'm crazy. So, it's really not unusual."

All the adults had horrified faces. McGonagall looked as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing, having never heard about any of it when it happened.

Harry, wanting to look somewhere besides at the pitying glances he was receiving, looked at Hermione and answered her question. "I don't know why I kept it. I don't think there was an actual reason. I probably just tossed it in my trunk and forgot about it."

She nodded, and Dumbledore began to read again.

**a cracked and worn-out Sneakoscope, and a gold locket inside which a note signed R.A.B. had been hidden, **

"What's that?" Bill asked Harry.

"I have to let the book reveal a certain fact first, and then, I'll explain the story behind the locket."

**he finally discovered the sharp edge that had done the damage. **

**He recognized it at once. It was a two-inch-long fragment of the enchanted mirror that his**

Here, Dumbledore paused, looking at Sirius and then at Harry.

Harry nodded at Dumbledore to continue.

Sirius, who had noticed Dumbledore glance at him, prepared himself for something he knew he wouldn't like.

**It was a two-inch-long fragment of the enchanted mirror that his dead godfather, Sirius, had given him. **

Sirius froze. He hadn't been expecting that. He turned to Harry. "When?" was all he managed to get out.

"The end of fifth year," Harry responded, trying to hold back tears.

Sirius snorted. "Of course, I would be the one." Having shaken himself out of his shock, he looked around the room. McGonagall, Molly, Tonks, Hermione, and Harry had tears running down their face. Fred, George, Ron, and Remus were frozen in shock. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes had gone out. Everyone else just looked distressed at the revelation.

Sirius shook his head. _It figures that I'd have to help people handle their grief over my own death_. "Look, everyone. Sure, I died. But remember what T.R.L. said? We can change this."

These comments successfully roused everyone but Remus and Harry out of their stupors. Sirius knew he'd have to be more drastic with them. He leaned over to Remus and grabbed his shoulder. "Remus?" Remus slowly turned his head to look at Sirius. Sirius could see the desperation in his eyes. "Remus?" he asked again.

"You can't die, Sirius. You're all I have left. You can't die." By the end of his words, Remus was shaking with sobs.

Sirius pulled him into a hug and let Remus sob into his chest. After a few minutes with the only sound being Remus's sobs, Remus calmed down enough to raise his head and wipe his eyes. He looked up sheepishly at everyone. "I'm sorry."

Sirius shook his shoulder. "Stop that. There is nothing to be sorry for."

Remus gave him a small smile but continued to look morose.

Sirius looked at Harry who had been staring at the table through the whole exchange. "Harry, we can change what happened."

At this, Harry looked up with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks and stared directly at his godfather. "True," he started, "If you decide to change what happened, then everyone here will never truly have to grieve your death. But no matter what, I have lived through the pain of losing you. Even if the future changes, my memories won't. I will always remember watching you die."

Sirius looked ready to interrupt, but Harry's last words stopped him. _He saw it?_ Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of something to say.

Seeing this, Dumbledore said, "Why don't we give you two a few minutes alone?"

Everyone stood up and left the room one by one. Tonks helped Remus stand and held on to him as they walked out, soothing him. Ron and Hermione lingered. Though this Harry was not the one they knew and though they didn't know exactly what had happened in the years he had that they were missing, they did know that he needed as much support as possible. He was still Harry, their best friend. Harry saw their indecision. He smiled to himself. _They haven't changed, always wanting to help me with everything, even when they don't understand what's really wrong_. "It's alright, guys. Go on." He paused. "Thanks, though, for wanting to be there for me."

"We'll always be there for you, Harry," Hermione assured him.

Ron nodded his agreement. "Yeah, Harry. Always."

Harry smiled at them as they left. _He's going to be devastated when he hears that he _wasn't_ "always" there._

As the door shut, Sirius stood up and walked over to where Harry was sitting. Sitting down in the chair next to him, he grabbed Harry's shoulder like he had Remus's. "You were there?"

Harry nodded.

"I'm sorry. You should have never had to see that."

Harry just shook his head. "With me at the center of the war on the light side, it was inevitable that I would see death. Cedric was the first, of course. But you were the first loved one I watched die. And that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that it was my fault."

Harry started to sob. Sirius pulled him close. Harry knew he shouldn't be sobbing. He was seventeen, and he'd already come to grips with Sirius's death. He tried to pull himself together and pull away, but Sirius held on tight. _It feels so good to be comforted_. After a few minutes, Harry calmed down, but he didn't let go of his godfather.

"Harry, did you personally cast the spell that killed me?" Sirius asked the young man in his arms.

"No, but I…"

Sirius interrupted him. "Then, it wasn't your fault."

_He'll think differently when he learns what happens_. But Harry didn't have it in him to argue.

"You know that Dumbledore will want to know what happened."

"I don't care if he wants to know. Do you?"

Sirius knew his godson well enough to know that he should be honest. "I don't want to know, but we need to know if we have any hope of preventing it."

Harry nodded. "I would prefer not to have to tell the story more than once," he requested.

Sirius smiled, hugged him, stood, walked to the door, and called everyone back into the room. Sirius quickly claimed the seat next to Harry. Remus sat on Sirius's other side. Tonks sat next to Remus. Ron sat down next Harry, and Hermione sat next to Ron. Everyone else filed back into the room.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore looked at Harry. "What happened?"

Harry avoided Dumbledore's eyes, not wanting him to use Legilimency. "When this chapter is over, I can tell you the story of both my fifth and sixth year. Though it will make it harder to tell the two stories at the same time, at least we'll get all the depression out of the way at once."

"Harry, I think…"

"Well, _I_ think that it's Harry's decision, and we should respect it," Sirius interrupted the professor.

Dumbledore was slightly taken aback, but Harry was the only one that noticed. "Very well."

Dumbledore picked up the book and began to read again.

**Harry laid it aside and felt cautiously around the trunk for the rest, but nothing more remained of his godfather's last gift except powdered glass, which clung to the deepest layer of debris like glittering grit.**

**Harry sat up and examined the jagged piece on which he had cut himself, seeing nothing but his own bright green eye reflected back at him. Then he placed the fragment on top of that morning's Daily Prophet, which lay unread on the bed, and attempted to stem the sudden upsurge of bitter memories, the stabs of regret and of longing the discovery of the broken mirror had occasioned, by attacking the rest of the rubbish in the trunk.**

Several people looked at Harry who avoided their eyes, but no one said anything, something for which Harry was grateful.

**It took another hour to empty it completely, throw away the useless items, and sort the remainder in piles according to whether or not he would need them from now on. His school and Quidditch robes, cauldron, parchment, quills, and most of his textbooks were piled in a corner, to be left behind. **

"Why were you leaving them behind?" McGonagall and Hermione said at the same time.

Harry glanced at McGonagall briefly before looking at Hermione.

Hermione could see in his eyes that he was pleading for her understanding and forgiveness. _What could he possibly need forgiveness from me for?_ Then, she realized. "We're not going to Hogwarts," she stated, not asked.

Harry looked down. "I'm so sorry about that, Hermione, truly. But I had no other choice, and you and Ron refused to let me go alone. I…"

"Of course we wouldn't let you go alone," Hermione interrupted. "And Harry, there is nothing to forgive; I made my own decision. I'm sure you, all three of us, had a good reason for missing our seventh year. I don't blame you."

Harry finally looked up. "Thank you."

Though Molly had been upset when Harry revealed that Ron hadn't finished school, she agreed with Hermione. There had to have been a good reason. Of course, that didn't mean she had to like it.

**He wondered what his aunt and uncle would do with them; burn them in the dead of night, probably, as if they were evidence of some dreadful crime. **

"Why would they do that, Harry?" Sirius asked his godson.

Harry just signaled for Dumbledore to keep reading.

**His Muggle clothing, Invisibility Cloak, potion-making kit, certain books, the photograph album Hagrid had once given him, a stack of letters, and his wand had been repacked into an old rucksack. In a front pocket were the Marauder's Map **

"Yes!" Sirius, Fred, and George all cheered. Remus just smiled.

**and the locket with the note signed R.A.B. inside it. **

Sirius wondered why those initials were familiar.

**The locket was accorded this place of honor not because it was valuable – in all usual senses it was worthless – but because of what it had cost to attain it.**

"Which was?" Arthur asked gently.

"Sixth year," was Harry's reply.

**This left a sizable stack of newspapers sitting on his desk beside his snowy owl, Hedwig: one for each of the days Harry had spent at Privet Drive this summer.**

**He got up off the floor, stretched, and moved across to his desk. Hedwig made no movement as he began to flick through newspapers, throwing them into the rubbish pile one by one. The owl was asleep or else faking; she was angry with Harry about the limited amount of time she was allowed out of her cage at the moment.**

"She does have a personality, doesn't she?" Ginny asked.

Harry smiled at her. It was the first time she had talked to him directly. He wondered briefly what this little excursion would mean for their relationship. After all, he was 17 and she was 14. "Yes, she di—does."

Only Hermione caught his slip. _Oh, no. Not Hedwig._ She knew how much that owl meant to her friend.

**Harry sighed sadly, he hated that she was mad at him so close to the end.**

_How true that statement is, _Harry thought.

**As he neared the bottom of the pile of newspapers, Harry slowed down, searching for one particular issue that he knew had arrived shortly after he had returned to Privet Drive for the summer; he remembered that there had been a small mention on the front about the resignation of Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts. At last he found it. Turning to page ten, he sank into his desk chair and reread the article he had been looking for.**

Hearing these words, Harry instantly looked directly at Dumbledore. And, had he been paying attention, he might have used that opportunity to use Legilimency. As it were, however, Dumbledore was staring at the next words he was to read. He was not afraid of death; he hadn't been for a long time. He was, though, extremely concerned about what this might mean for Hogwarts and its students. He looked up into Harry's eyes. Harry had no time to prepare to protect his mind, but he needn't have worried. Dumbledore did not use Legilimency; he simply looked at Harry with no twinkle in his eye.

"It isn't pretty, is it?" he asked.

Everyone was very confused at this comment. They thought that he was perhaps referring to Charity Burbage, but there had been no clue in the paragraph to indicate foul play.

But Harry understood and grimaced at Dumbledore's question. "No."

Dumbledore nodded and read the words he knew would bring about another round of depression.

**_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE REMEMBERED_**

"Remembered?!" Remus breathed in shock. "That means…" But he could not say it.

Harry looked around and saw that everyone was in shock. He used the opportunity to speak uninterrupted. "We should read, so we can finish the chapter quickly. I will explain at the end of this chapter both Sirius's death and Dumbledore's. I suggest that everyone remain silent while the professor reads the obituary."

Everyone nodded, and Dumbledore continued.

**_By Elphias Doge_**

**_I met Albus Dumbledore at the age of eleven, on our first day at Hogwarts. Our mutual attraction was undoubtedly due to the fact that we both felt ourselves to be outsiders. I had contracted dragon pox shortly before arriving at school, and whileI was no longer contagious, my pock-marked visage and greenish hue did not encourage many to approach me. For his part, Albus had arrived at Hogwarts under the burden of unwanted notoriety. Scarcely a year previously, his father, Percival, had been convicted of a savage and well-publicized attack upon three young Muggles._**

**_Albus never attempted to deny that his father (who was to die in Azkaban) had committed this crime; on the contrary, when I plucked up courage to ask him, he assured me that he knew his father to be guilty. Beyond that, Dumbledore refused to speak of the sad business, though many attempted to make him do so. Some, indeed, were disposed to praise his father's action and assumed that Albus too was a Muggle-hater. They could not have been more mistaken: As anybody who knew Albus would attest, he never revealed the remotest anti-Muggle tendency. Indeed, his determined support for Muggle rights gained him many enemies in subsequent years._**

**_In a matter of months, however, Albus's own fame had begun to eclipse that of his father. By the end of his first year he would never again be known as the son of a Muggle-hater, but as nothing more or less than the most brilliant student ever seen at the school. Those of us who were privileged to be his friends benefited from his example, not to mention his help and encouragement, with which he was always generous. He confessed to me later in life that he knew even then that his greatest pleasure lay in teaching._**

**_He not only won every prize of note that the school offered, he was soon in regular correspondence with the most notable magical names of the day, including Nicolas Flamel, the celebrated alchemist; Bathilda Bagshot, the noted historian; and Adalbert Waffling, the magical theoretician. Several of his papers found their way into learned publications such as Transfiguration Today, Challenges in Charming, and The Practical Potioneer. Dumbledore's future career seemed likely to be meteoric, and the only question that remained was when he would become Minister of Magic. Though it was often predicted in later years that he was on the point of taking the job, however, he never had Ministerial ambitions._**

**_Three years after we had started at Hogwarts, Albus's brother, Aberforth, arrived at school. They were not alike: Aberforth was never bookish and, unlike Albus, preferred to settle arguments by dueling rather than through reasoned discussion. _**

**_However, it is quite wrong to suggest, as some have, that the brothers were not friends. They rubbed along as comfortably as two such different boys could do. In fairness to Aberforth, it must be admitted that living in Albus's shadow cannot have been an altogether comfortable experience. Being continually outshone was an occupational hazard of being his friend and cannot have been any more pleasurable as a brother. When Albus and I left Hogwarts we intended to take the then-traditional tour of the world together, visiting and observing foreign wizards, before pursuing our separate careers. However, tragedy intervened. On the very eve of our trip, Albus's mother, Kendra, died, leaving_**

**_Albus the head, and sole breadwinner, of the family. I postponed my departure long enough to pay my respects at Kendra's funeral, then left for what was now to be a solitary journey. With a younger brother and sister to care for, and little gold left to them, there could no longer be any question of Albus accompanying me._**

**_That was the period of our lives when we had least contact. I wrote to Albus, describing, perhaps insensitively, the wonders of my journey, from narrow escapes from chimaeras in Greece to the experiments of the Egyptian alchemists. His letters told me little of his day-to-day life, which I guessed to be frustratingly dull for such a brilliant wizard. Immersed in my own experiences, it was with horror that I heard, toward the end of my year's travels, that another tragedy had struck the Dumbledores: the death of his sister, Ariana._**

**_Though Ariana had been in poor health for a long time, the blow, coming so soon after the loss of their mother, had a profound effect on both of her brothers. All those closest to Albus – and I count myself one of that lucky number – agree that Ariana's death, and Albus's feeling of personal responsibility for it (though, of course, he was guiltless), left their mark upon him forevermore._**

**_I returned home to find a young man who had experienced a much older person's suffering. Albus was more reserved than before, and much less light-hearted. To add to his misery, the loss of Ariana had led, not to a renewed closeness between Albus and Aberforth, but to an estrangement. (In time this would lift – in later years they reestablished, if not a close relationship, then certainly a cordial one.) However, he rarely spoke of his parents or of Ariana from then on, and his friends learned not to mention them._**

**_Other quills will describe the triumphs of the following years. Dumbledore's innumerable contributions to the store of Wizarding knowledge, including his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, will benefit generations to come, as will the wisdom he displayed in the many judgments while Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. They say, still, that no Wizarding duel ever matched that between Dumbledore and Grindelwald in 1945._**

**_Those who witnessed it have written of the terror and the awe they felt as they watched these two extraordinary wizards to battle. _**

**_Dumbledore's triumph, and its consequences for the Wizarding world, are considered a turning point in magical history to match the introduction of the International Statute of Secrecy or the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._**

**_Albus Dumbledore was never proud or vain; he could find something to value in anyone, however apparently insignificant or wretched, and I believe that his early losses endowed him with great humanity and sympathy. I shall miss his friendship more than I can say, but my loss is nothing compared to the Wizarding world's. That he was the most inspiring and best loved of all Hogwarts headmasters cannot be in question. He died as he lived: working always for the greater good and, to his last hour, as willing to stretch out a hand to a small boy with dragon pox as he was on the day I met him._**

**Harry finished reading, but continued to gaze at the picture accompanying the obituary. Dumbledore was wearing his familiar, kindly smile, but as he peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles, he gave the impression, even in newsprint, of X-raying Harry, whose sadness mingled with a sense of humiliation.**

"His eyes do make you feel like that," McGonagall whispered to Moody who grunted in response.

**He had thought he knew Dumbledore quite well, but ever since reading this obituary he had been forced to recognize that he had barely known him at all. Never once had he imagined Dumbledore's childhood or youth; it was as though he had sprung into being as Harry had known him, venerable and silver-haired and old. **

"It does seem like that, doesn't it?" Hermione commented.

**The idea of a teenage Dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Blast-Ended Skrewt.**

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Hermione asked.

Harry just smiled at her. "Absolutely."

**He had never thought to ask Dumbledore about his past. No doubt it would have felt strange, impertinent even, but after all it had been common knowledge that Dumbledore had taken part in that legendary duel with Grindelwald, and Harry had not thought to ask Dumbledore what that had been like, nor about any of his other famous achievements. No, they had always discussed Harry, Harry's past, Harry's future, Harry's plans… and it seemed to Harry now, despite the fact that his future was so dangerous and so uncertain, that he had missed irreplaceable opportunities when he had failed to ask Dumbledore more about himself, even though the only personal question he had ever asked his headmaster was also the only one he suspected that Dumbledore had not answered honestly:**

**"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"**

**"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."**

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Harry interrupted him. "It's alright, sir. I imagine I know the answer now. And after all, it really wasn't any of my business."

Dumbledore shook his head and again started to speak. "Please just continue, sir," Harry cut him off.

**After several minutes' thought, Harry tore the obituary out of the Prophet, folded it carefully, and tucked it inside the first volume of Practical Defensive Magic and its Use against the Dark Arts. Then he threw the rest of the newspaper onto the rubbish pile and turned to face the room. It was much tidier. The only things left out of place were today's Daily Prophet, still lying on the bed, and on top of it, the piece of broken mirror.**

**Harry moved across the room, slid the mirror fragment off today's Prophet, and unfolded the newspaper. He had merely glanced at the headline when he had taken the rolled-up paper from the delivery owl early that morning and thrown it aside, after noting that it said nothing about Voldemort. Harry was sure that the Ministry was leaning on the Prophet to suppress news about Voldemort. **

"Still?" McGonagall questioned.

Harry gave a small smile at her tone. "Worse."

**It was only now, therefore, that he saw what he had missed.**

**Across the bottom half of the front page a smaller headline was set over a picture of Dumbledore striding along, looking harried:**

**_DUMBLEDORE – THE TRUTH AT LAST?_**

**_Coming next week, the shocking story of the flawed genius considered by many to be the greatest wizard of his generation. Striping away the popular image of serene, silver-bearded wisdom, Rita Skeeter reveals the disturbed childhood, the lawless youth, the life-long feuds, and the guilty secrets that Dumbledore carried to his grave, WHY was the man tipped to be the Minister of Magic content to remain a mere headmaster? WHAT was the real purpose of the secret organization known as the Order of the Phoenix? HOW did Dumbledore really meet his end?_**

**_The answers to these and many more questions are explored in the explosive new biography, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, by Rita Skeeter, exclusively interviewed by Berry Braithwaite, page 13, inside._**

Molly huffed, "Really, is that necessary?"

Harry just grimaced.

**Harry ripped open the paper and found page thirteen. **

**The article was topped with a picture showing another familiar face: a woman wearing jeweled glasses with elaborately curled blonde hair, her teeth bared in what was clearly supposed to be a winning smile, wiggling her fingers up at him. Doing his best to ignore this nauseating image, Harry read on.**

Again, Harry spoke up. "Again, I think we should read the article without interrupting. We'll get through it quicker, and it will give us time to digest the information. Honestly, I wouldn't even have Professor Dumbledore read it if you didn't need to hear it in order to understand some of my future actions."

**_In person, Rita Skeeter is much warmer and softer than her famously ferocious quill-portraits might suggest._**

**_Greeting me in the hallway of her cozy home, she leads me straight into the kitchen for a cup of tea, a slice of pound cake and, it goes without saying, a steaming vat of freshest gossip._**

**_"Well, of course, Dumbledore is a biographer's dream," says Skeeter. "Such a long, full life. I'm sure my book will be the first of very, very many."_**

**_Skeeter was certainly quick off the mark. Her nine-hundred-page book was completed in a mere four weeks after Dumbledore's mysterious death in June. I ask her how she managed this superfast feat._**

**_"Oh, when you've been a journalist as long as I have, working to a deadline is second nature. I knew that the Wizarding world was clamoring for the full story and I wanted to be the first to meet that need."_**

**_I mention the recent, widely publicized remarks of Elphias Doge, Special Advisor to the Wizengamot and longstanding friend of Albus Dumbledore's, that "Skeeter's book contains less fact than a Chocolate Frog card."_**

**_Skeeter throws back her head and laughs._**

**_"Darling Dodgy! I remember interviewing him a few years back about merpeople rights, bless him. Completely gaga, seemed to think we were sitting at the bottom of Lake Windermere, kept telling me to watch out for trout."_**

**_And yet Elphias Doge's accusations of inaccuracy have been echoed in many places. Does Skeeter really feel that four short weeks have been enough to gain a full picture of Dumbledore's long and extraordinary life?_**

**_"Oh, my dear," beams Skeeter, rapping me affectionately across the knuckles, "you know as well as I do how much information can be generated by a fat bag of Galleons, a refusal to hear the word 'no,' and a nice sharp Quick-Quotes Quill! People were queuing to dish the dirt on Dumbledore anyway. Not everyone thought he was so wonderful, you know – he trod on an awful lot of important toes. _**

**_But old Dodgy Doge can get off his high hippogriff, because I've had access to a source most journalists would swap their wands for, one who has never spoken in public before and who was close to Dumbledore during the most turbulent and disturbing phase of his youth."_**

**_The advance publicity for Skeeter's biography has certainly suggested that there will be shocks in store for those who believe Dumbledore to have led a blameless life. _**

**_What were the biggest surprises she uncovered, I ask?_**

**_"Now, come off it. Betty, I'm not giving away all the highlights before anybody's bought the book!" laughs Skeeter. "But I can promise that anybody who still thinks Dumbledore was white as his beard is in for a rude awakening! Let's just say that nobody hearing him rage against You-Know-Who would have dreamed that he dabbled in the Dark Arts himself in his youth! _**

**_And for a wizard who spent his later years pleading for tolerance, he wasn't exactly broad-minded when he was younger! Yes, Albus Dumbledore had an extremely murky past, not to mention that very fishy family, which he worked so hard to keep hushed up."_**

**_I ask whether Skeeter is referring to Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, whose conviction by the Wizengamot for misuse of magic caused a minor scandal fifteen years ago._**

**_"Oh, Aberforth is just the tip of the dung heap," laughs Skeeter. "No, no, I'm talking about much worse than a brother with a fondness for fiddling about with goats, worse even than the Muggle-maiming father – Dumbledore couldn't keep either of them quiet anyway, they were both charged by the Wizengamot. No, it's the mother and the sister that intrigued me, and a little digging uncovered apositive nest of nastiness – but, as I say, you'll have to wait for chapters nine to twelve for full details. All I can say now is, it's no wonder Dumbledore never talked about how his nose got broken."_**

**_Family skeletons notwithstanding, does Skeeter deny the brilliance that led to Dumbledore's many magical discoveries?_**

**_"He had brains," she concedes, "although many now question whether he could really take full credit for all of his supposed achievements. As I reveal in chapter sixteen, Ivor Dillonsby claims he had already discovered eight uses of dragon's blood when Dumbledore 'borrowed' his papers."_**

**_But the importance of some of Dumbledore's achievements cannot, I venture, be denied. What of his famous defeat of Grindelwald?_**

**_"Oh, now, I'm glad you mentioned Grindelwald," says Skeeter with such a tantalizing smile. "I'm afraid those who go dewy-eyed over Dumbledore's spectacular victory must brace themselves for a bombshell – or perhaps a Dungbomb. Very dirty business indeed. All I'll say is, don't be so sure that there really was a spectacular duel of legend. After they've read my book, people may be forced to conclude that Grindelwald simply conjured a white handkerchief from the end of his wand and came quietly!"_**

**_Skeeter refuses to give any more away on this intriguing subject, so we turn instead to the relationship that will undoubtedly fascinate her readers more than any other._**

**_"Oh yes," says Skeeter, nodding briskly, "I devote an entire chapter to the whole Potter-Dumbledore relationship._**

**_It's been called unhealthy, even sinister. _**

**_Again, your readers will have to buy my book for the whole story, but there is no question that Dumbledore took an unnatural interest in Potter from the word go. Whether that was really in the boy's best interests – well, we'll see. _**

Harry grimaced at this. He still didn't know his own opinion on that subject.

**_It's certainly an open secret that Potter has had a most troubled adolescence."_**

**_I ask whether Skeeter is still in touch with Harry Potter, whom she so famously interviewed last year: a breakthrough piece in which Potter spoke exclusively of his conviction that You-Know-Who had returned._**

**_"Oh, yes, we've developed a closer bond," says Skeeter. "Poor Potter has few real friends, and we met at one of the most testing moments of his life – the Triwizard Tournament. I am probably one of the only people alive who can say that they know the real Harry Potter."_**

Sirius and Hermione snorted loudly.

**_Which leads us neatly to the many rumors still circulating about Dumbledore's final hours. Does Skeeter believe that Potter was there when Dumbledore died?_**

Sirius cut his own snort off. He turned abruptly to look at Harry. Despite the reminder in Harry's eyes to remain quiet, he interrupted. "You were there when he died as well?"

Harry sighed. "Yes," he said quietly.

Sirius grimaced.

**_"Well, I don't want to say too much – it's all in the book – but eyewitnesses inside Hogwarts castle saw Potter running away from the scene moments after Dumbledore fell, jumped, or was pushed. Potter later gave evidence against Severus Snape, _**

Sirius stood up and trained his wand on Snape who also pulled his wand. But Harry was quicker than them both. He put up a shield between the two and said loudly, drawing everyone's attention to him, "Sit down, Sirius. All of you, listen. I will explain everything to you soon. In the meantime, you need to remember what Te—T.R.L said: Don't judge anyone until the whole book has been read."

Everyone settled back down, and Dumbledore continued.

**_a man against whom he has a notorious grudge. Is everything as it seems? _**

There were cries of outrage at this subtle accusation, but Dumbledore did not stop reading.

**_That is for the Wizarding community to decide – once they've read my book."_**

**_On that intriguing note, I take my leave. There can be no doubt that Skeeter has quilled an instant bestseller. Dumbledore's legion of admirers, meanwhile, may well be trembling at what is soon to emerge about their hero._**

Everyone looked ready to speak out about how outrageous the whole article was, but one look at Dumbledore encouraged Harry to silence them. "Listen, everyone. I know you all want to argue against the article, but it'll be best if you just, for right now, let it go. This topic will be brought up again, and the truth _will_ be revealed." Here, he looked at Dumbledore and felt bad about the pain this would cause him. "Let's wait until then to discuss it. Please."

Everyone was still getting used to this new Harry, and hearing his words, they could do nothing but agree to do as he asked.

**Harry reached the bottom of the article, but continued to stare blankly at the page. Revulsion and fury rose in him like vomit; he balled up the newspaper and threw it, with all his force, at the wall, where it joined the rest of the rubbish heaped around his overflowing bin.**

**He began to stride blindly around the room, opening empty drawers and picking up books only to replace them on the same piles, barely conscious of what he was doing, as random phrases from Rita's article echoed in his head: An entire chapter to the whole Potter-Dumbledore relationship ... It's been called unhealthy, even sinister ... He dabbled in the Dark Arts himself in his youth ... I've had access to a source most journalists would swap their wands for...**

**"Lies!" Harry bellowed, and through the window he saw the next-door neighbor, who had paused to restart his lawn mower, look up nervously.**

"Harry, Harry, Harry…" Fred started.

"…You must learn to control your temper," George finished.

**Harry sat down hard on the bed. The broken bit of mirror danced away from him; he picked it up and turned it over in his fingers, thinking, thinking of Dumbledore and the lies with which Rita Skeeter was defaming him ...**

Dumbledore sighed.

**A flash of brightest blue. Harry froze, his cut finger slipping on the jagged edge of the mirror again. He had imagined it, he must have done. He glanced over his shoulder, but the wall was a sickly peach color of Aunt Petunia's choosing: There was nothing blue there for the mirror to reflect. He peered into the mirror fragment again, and saw nothing but his own bright green eye looking back at him.**

**He had imagined it, there was no other explanation; imagined it, because he had been thinking of his dead headmaster. If anything was certain, it was that the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore would never pierce him again.**

Molly and McGonagall had tears in their eyes. Everyone around the table looked morose. Almost as one, they turned to Harry, who took a deep breath and began.


	3. Chapter 3

For those of you that asked: I skipped "The Dark Lord Ascending" because I wanted to keep it only with Harry's POV.

Also, just a heads up, I never finished reading book 5 and never read book 6 at all. (I know, it's shameful.) I'm kind of going off the movies and a little of what I know happened from reading other fanficiton (mostly reading-the-books ones). If there is something that is egregiously wrong, please feel free to let me know.

Oh, and Disclaimer (Forgot this the last chapters): None of the characters or bold text is mine!

Please don't expect updates this often on a usual bases. I don't have a lot of time to work on my stories. What college student does?

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

"I'm not going to give a lot of details. Alright?" Harry started. "I'll give you what you need to know to prevent the deaths, but there's no point in making things worse by giving you too much information."

Everyone nodded. Dumbledore looked as if he wanted to argue, but the look on Harry's face kept him from doing so.

"Okay. I suppose I'll start with fifth year. Or, I guess, this year? Yeah, that's confusing. Anyway. You won't understand a lot of things about the events leading up to Sirius's death unless I tell you at least a little about the whole year in general. So, I suppose I'll start with the fact that Dumbledore was unable to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and therefore, the ministry appointed one: Madame Dolores Umbridge."

Remus growled, recognizing the name.

Harry looked at him. "Yep, that's her. The ministry, as all of you know, was—or is—denying Voldemort's return. Fudge is trying to discredit Dumbledore and myself." He looked at Dumbledore. "He knows you aren't going to like that, and he thinks you'll fight back against him. Literally. He believes that you're going to build an army of students to take him and the ministry on."

"What? That's a stupid idea! A bunch of students could not take on the ministry; they don't have enough experience," Remus said.

"Yeah, well, since when has Fudge had smart ideas," Harry replied.

Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Sirius, and Bill laughed. Hermione, McGonagall, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Remus, and Arthur smiled.

"Regardless, he does believe this stupid idea. So, he sends Umbridge basically to prevent us from learning anything that we could use to fight the ministry—his concern—or defend ourselves against Voldemort and his death eaters—our concern. All we ever do in her class is read the text book; we aren't allowed to actually use magic at all. Eventually, she's 'High Inquisitor of Hogwarts' which basically means that she gets to tell all the teachers not to teach us anything, and she gets to make up a lot of rules or 'decrees' that the students all hate—except maybe the Slytherins."

"What kind of rules, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Well, there's really only one that you need to know to understand the story, but it should give you a good idea about the rest of them. You see, Hermione, Ron, and I were sick of not learning anything when we knew Voldemort was out there. So, Hermione decided that we needed a 'proper' teacher."

"I meant you, didn't I?" Hermione questioned.

Harry smiled. "Yeah. You did."

Hermione smiled back.

Ron frowned at them.

Harry noticed this and decided that he would clear things up as soon as he could. He didn't want his friend's insecurities getting the better of him this time around.

"So, she put the word out about her idea to students who would be interested. Then, during a Hogsmeade trip, we all met in the Hog's Head. We talked about forming a group to learn defense." Harry noticed that he had slipped back into past tense. _Oh, well, it's easier that way._ "After the trip, several of us were often seen talking together. She was suspicious and issued a decree that said that every student group was disbanded and that students were not allowed to be in a group of more than three students at any given time that was not meals or classes."

Harry stopped here, thinking someone would want to comment, but when he looked up, he saw that they were all to stunned to say anything. He continued.

"This, of course, included Quidditch teams."

This sentence woke them up.

Fred started, "No more Quidditch—"

"—is outrageous," George finished.

Harry kept going. "Of course, the Slytherin team was given permission to continue almost immediately, and McGonagall had to do a lot of talking to get the Gryffindor team back, but she did. All the teams were, eventually, allowed to continue, which is great because I would have hated Ron's first season to be cut short." Harry stopped here, waiting for his words to register.

Ron froze upon hearing Harry's words. "I expect I was awful, was I?" he asked.

Harry smiled. "You weren't awful. You played well, especially considering that all the Slytherins had chosen you as their target."

"Their target?!" Molly questioned.

"Not physically, Mrs. Weasley. Mentally. They were targeting all their head games at him, and I do mean all of them. He handled it as well as anyone would I suppose."

"Oh, that's awful," Hermione said.

Ron looked dejected. Harry rushed to reassure him. "But don't worry, Ron. You showed them in the end."

Ron looked at Harry and half-smiled.

Harry sighed. _Looks like it's gonna take more work than I thought._

"Back to the story: so, student groups were no longer allowed. But that was not going to stop us of course. We eventually found a place to meet, and Hermione informed all the members of the first meeting. They decided on me as the leader, and we all decided on a name for our group. We referred to it as the DA so that if any unwelcome ears overheard us they wouldn't know what we were talking about. But 'DA' stood for something, of course. It was Ginny's idea: why not be what the ministry fears most. We were Dumbledore's Army."

All the students, Sirius, Remus, Arthur, Bill, Tonks, Mad-Eye, McGonagall, and even Snape smiled at this revelation. And Dumbledore had and extra sparkle in his eye.

Molly, though, was getting upset with the revelation that Ginny was in this group. She didn't want her daughter fighting. She exploded. "Ginny! You will not do this. I will not have you fighting."

Harry interrupted her tirade. "Mrs. Weasley!" Molly looked at him. "I understand that she's your little girl. Both as the youngest and as the only girl, you don't want to see her involved in dangerous things. You want her to be the girl that you always wanted. But she's not, Mrs. Weasley. She's a girl, but she's a girl who can play an excellent game of Quidditch, who can throw a Bat-Bogey Hex that would have anyone quaking in their shoes, and who is perfectly capable of holding her own in a fight. The sooner you accept this, Mrs. Weasley, the better it will be for all parties involved."

All the Weasleys were looking at Harry with awe. Mrs. Weasley looked flabbergasted. Ginny caught Harry's eye and mouthed 'Thank you.' Harry nodded.

He continued. "A few members of Dumbledore's Army were I, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, and Luna Lovegood. There were many more but those are the big ones, I guess. I know that Ron, Hermione, and I don't know Luna yet, but she becomes one of our closest friends. Anyway: Dumbledore's Army was created, and it flourished. Neville, especially, flourished. He was learning so quickly in an environment that was supportive. Hermione used a Protean Charm on some fake Galleons to use to notify members of the next meeting. We kept changing the day and the time mostly because of Quidditch practices but also because it was easier to keep Umbridge confused that way."

Mad-Eye nodded his head, satisfied, at this.

"Now, I'm going to return to Quidditch for a moment. During the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, I beat Malfoy to the snitch. Well, once we landed, he started throwing out insults about the Weasleys, just heaping them on. The girls were holding Fred back, and I was holding George back. Ron had gone off somewhere after the match to calm down and didn't hear any of what Malfoy said. Then, though, Malfoy brought my mother into it, and I lost it. I let go of George, and he and I just let loose on Malfoy. We were taken to McGonagall's office to be punished, but Umbridge interrupted us. She forbade Fred, George, and me from ever playing Quidditch again and locked our broomsticks in her office."

Fred and George looked as if they'd just been informed of a friend's death.

"One good thing to come of it, though, was that Ginny was the replacement Seeker. She was excellent at it. And she's an even better Chaser, which we discovered sixth year. I'm going to end the talk of Quidditch by saying that, without me, Fred, or George and thanks to our brilliant Keeper, Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup!"

Fred and George jumped up and grabbed Ron and Ginny and started to chant, "We won! We won!"

Harry laughed. "And even better: the song that the Slytherins had created to make fun of Ron, the Gryffindors changed the words to make it a victory anthem that applauded him."

Fred and George laughed at this as well.

Once all the celebrating died down, Harry continued.

"I suppose I'll somber things up again. Dumbledore's Army was betrayed. She hadn't really wanted to be there anyway; her friend had dragged her. And her mother was a ministry official who was pushing her to turn us in. Anyway, Umbridge found us, and she took me to Dumbledore's office to confront Dumbledore. You see, she believed that Dumbledore had created it, not the students. She tried to get our betrayer to give further evidence, but she wouldn't, because Hermione, always one to think ahead, had charmed the paper we had all signed. Anyone who betrayed the DA would get sores on their face that spelled out the word 'Snitch.' The more she said about the DA, the worse the sores got. Dumbledore took the blame for the group to protect me, Ron, and Hermione. Umbridge tried to have him arrested, but he disappeared before she could.

"With Dumbledore gone, Umbridge became Headmistress of Hogwarts. But Hogwarts didn't like that. The gargoyle wouldn't let her up to the Head's office. Fred and George, though, decided they weren't going to put up with it anymore. They already knew what they were going to do after school. They had the funds, the supplies, and everything they needed to start their store. What did they need to finish school for? So, they left. But not before they gave Umbridge a final message."

Molly looked ready to speak up again, but Arthur managed to silence her by saying, "We can discuss it later."

"You used all sorts of your products to wreak havoc. It was great."

Harry sighed. "And now, you're only missing one part of the back story to Sirius's death. All year, I'd been having dreams that weren't my own. When I slept, I would see the Department of Mysteries, though I didn't know what it was at the time. Once, right before Christmas, I dreamt that I was a snake, crawling along the floor of the Department when I came upon Mr. Weasley, who had drifted off while guarding …" Harry hesitated. "… it."

"'It'?" Hermione questioned.

Harry nodded. "You'll find out soon what 'it' is. Anyway, as the snake, I attacked Mr. Weasley."

Molly gasped, the rest of the Weasleys looked frightened, and everyone else looked concerned, but Harry didn't stop. _I have to finish the story._

"Regardless of the details, I awoke and managed to tell McGonagall that Mr. Weasley had been attacked. She informed Dumbledore, and Mr. Weasley was found quickly and taken to St. Mungo's. He was fine after the healers found the antidote to the snake's venom."

Everyone looked relieved, though Molly still gripped tightly to Arthur's arm.

"Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, and I were taken to Dumbledore's office where he gave us a port key to Grimmauld Place. Right before we left, though, Dumbledore, for the first time all year, looked me in the eye. And in that instant, I felt bloodlust rush through me; I wanted to kill Dumbledore. But I didn't, no. It was Voldemort that wanted to kill him. Voldemort had discovered the connection between our minds at last."

Everyone looked horrified. Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly. But Harry just continued.

"Dumbledore had Professor Snape give me Occlumency lessons, and while it was a good idea for me to learn it, it turned out terribly with the teacher I was given." Here, Harry looked at Dumbledore. "Professor Snape is a master at Occlumency, but I don't think anyone here except you would expect him to teach me properly. And it has nothing to do with his loyalty, Professor. He can't teach me properly, because he doesn't like me, at all. And I don't particularly like him either. Thus, we don't have relationship where I can learn anything from him, even potions."

Harry stopped himself. _Get back to the story. _He took a deep breath and began.

"We were taking the OWLs. I had a vision that Voldemort had Sirius, that he was torturing him."

Sirius spoke for the first time since Harry had begun. "It was a fake vision, wasn't it? Voldemort sent it to you as bait, didn't he?"

Harry started to tear up. He nodded. "Yes." Abruptly, Harry was angry, once more, at Dumbledore. He turned toward the Headmaster. "But how was I to know that it was fake?! How was I to know that Voldemort might try and plant images in my mind to trick me?! I was told to learn Occlumency, but not why! If I had known he could do that, plant images, I might have been more careful! But you weren't telling me anything! No one was telling me anything! I wasn't a child! Not by then! I could have handled it! I might have worked harder to fight the visions! I might have…" Harry had run out of steam and was now sobbing.

Sirius pulled Harry toward him. He held Harry tight in a hug, letting him cry.

Hermione, Molly McGonagall, Ginny, and Tonks were crying too. Dumbledore's eyes had lost their twinkle. And everyone else seemed to be fighting their emotions—except Snape who appeared indifferent.

When Harry's tears had mostly subsided, Sirius said, "Finish the story, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Look at me Harry." Harry looked up. "Just tell me. Just talk to me and tell me what happened. Don't look at anyone else. Just me."

Harry nodded. "I told Ron and Hermione what I saw. My vision was correct with Mr. Weasley, and they had no reason to believe that it wouldn't be correct now. We knew Umbridge was monitoring the Floo Network, but we thought 'why would she monitor her own fire?" so we snuck into her office and used her fireplace to floo Grimmauld Place to see if you were there. I talked to Kreacher, and he said that you weren't there. But Kreacher was in on it. At Christmas time, you had yelled at him to 'Get out!' and he had gone to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa and Bellatrix were Black family members. They ordered him to spy on the Order for them. He told them that they could use you to get to me. They told him that, if I was to ask for you, he should tell me that you weren't there. I thought it was true. Umbridge caught us. We escaped from her and managed to make our way to the Department of Mysteries, where my vision said you were. Neville, Luna, and Ginny were with Ron, Hermione, and I. I tried to leave them all behind, but they wouldn't let me, especially after DA. Sure enough, I found what they wanted me to find: the prophesy."

Hermione wanted to question, but thought better of it.

"The death eaters showed themselves, and we fought against them. We were holding our own at the beginning, but soon enough, we were just…surviving. The Order showed up. Umbridge had called for Snape's assistance when she caught us, so I had told him that 'he has Padfoot in the place where its hidden' but Snape didn't acknowledge, and I didn't really trust him. By the time the order showed up, the prophesy had already been destroyed—accidentally. We all had an injury or two, some more serious than others, but nothing that couldn't be healed. When the Order showed up, we'd made our way to the room with the veil. Tonks was dueling Bellatrix, but you stepped in, seeing that Tonks was struggling. You were taunting her; you weren't focusing. She sent a spell at you that caused you to lose your balance. You fell backwards into the veil. And you were gone. Just like that, you were gone." Harry began to cry again. "It was my fault," he sobbed.

Most of them were crying or close to crying.

Sirius spoke. "It was not your fault, Harry. I chose to go there. I chose to duel Bellatrix. You said it yourself, I wasn't focusing. You had no control over any of that. So, Voldemort tricked you. We've all been tricked at one point or another. You can't let this eat at you, Harry. Trust me on that. I've learned it the hard way. Okay?"

Harry's tears had lessened, and he nodded hesitantly.

Dumbledore spoke up quietly. "What happened after that, Harry?"

Harry looked up. "I chased after Bellatrix as she ran. I wanted to kill her, but I couldn't do it. Before she could do anything to me, though, Voldemort himself showed up. But so did you, sir. You and Voldemort dueled, neither one of you gaining an advantage over the other, always on equal footing. Then, he possessed me."

This was met with gasps.

"It was painful, so painful. I thought I would die. But it was painful for him too. You said that it was something about love and goodness. That, like Quirrell, he could not bear to be in such close contact with my soul. He left my body, and about that time, Fudge and other ministry officials showed up and saw him. He retreated. You took me back to your office before the ministry could get to me. But you left me alone in my grief. I was sad, but I was mostly angry. When you returned, I yelled at you and broke your things. Eventually, I calmed down, and we discussed the prophesy, what it said and why you kept its contents from me. And then it was time to go home, the year was over."

Everyone was quiet for a few moments before Hermione asked, "What prophesy, Harry?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to keep Harry from telling her, but Harry was quicker. "No, Dumbledore. Everyone here deserves to know, Hermione and Ron, especially. I deserved to know long before I did. You told me that you didn't tell me sooner because you cared for me and did not want to burden me with the knowledge. I may have been a child in body but not in mind. I hadn't been a child since before the Philosopher's Stone incident. And maybe not even before that. Knowledge is power, Dumbledore, and I needed all the power I could get if I was to fight Voldemort."

He looked at Hermione and began to recite the prophesy. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._"

No one except Dumbledore had known the complete contents of the prophesy. Harry let it sink in.

Hermione, of course, was the first to recover. "'Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live with the other survives'?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. That wasn't the only surprise in those words though."

Ron took the bait. "What other surprise?"

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies,'" Harry repeated. "I was born on July 31, but Neville was born on July 30. He could have been the Chosen One just as easily as I was as both sets of parents had defied Voldemort three times."

"But why was it you, then?" Ginny asked.

Harry quoted again. "'The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…' I was the Chosen One, because Voldemort literally chose me. He decided that it would be me. He chose at whose hand he would die. If he had gone to Neville's house that night instead of mine… Yet, I would not wish that on Neville."

Everyone sat quietly for several minutes until: "What about sixth year, Harry?"


	4. Chapter 4

Again, just a heads up, I never finished reading book 5 and never read book 6 at all. (I know, it's shameful.) I'm kind of going off the movies and a little of what I know happened from reading other fanficiton (mostly reading-the-books ones). If there is something that is egregiously wrong, please feel free to let me know.

Disclaimer: None of the characters or bold text is mine!

Please don't expect updates this often on a usual bases. I don't have a lot of time to work on my stories. What college student does?

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

"What about sixth year, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry took a deep breath, preparing for his next story. "Again, I won't give too many details; they don't really matter. There are really only two parts of sixth year that you need to know. One is that, as punishment for Lucius failing to retrieve the prophesy, Draco was forced to become a death eater and given the assignment to kill Dumbledore."

Harry gave this information a few minutes to sink in. Surprisingly, it was Snape who spoke first. "He knew Draco would fail," he stated, not asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, and when he did, Voldemort would kill him. Draco knew this and so did Narcissa." He directed his next words at Snape. "You had made an unbreakable vow to her that you would help him." Snape nodded.

"Anyway, I knew Draco was up to something just not what. I followed him around and spied on him quite a bit that year. I was obsessed with it." Harry shook his head. "I'll come back to that part. The second relevant part of that year was that Dumbledore was giving me lessons. He was teaching me about Voldemort. He was giving me knowledge. He was showing me bits of Voldemort's past. He eventually revealed to me that Voldemort had created horcruxes."

Those that knew what a horcrux was looked horrified.

Hermione asked, "What's a horcrux, Harry?"

"A horcrux is an object that contains a piece of a person's soul. As long as it remains intact, the person cannot truly die."

Now everyone looked horrified.

Harry continued. "Voldemort had created seven of them." He looked at Ginny. "One of them, I destroyed my second year: Tom Riddle's diary. Another, Marvolo Gaunt's ring, Dumbledore had destroyed during the summer. But Dumbledore believed that he knew where another one was, but he needed my help to get it. He took me to a cave where we traveled across a small lake to an even smaller island upon which there was a basin filled with liquid. Dumbledore told me that I was to force him to drink every drop of that liquid no matter how much he begged me not to. You see the potion made the drinker hear horrible things in their mind. Eventually, I succeeded. Once the basin was empty, I saw a locket in the bottom. I took it. The potion also made Dumbledore thirsty, but when I reached to get him some water from the lake, I was attacked by Inferi."

A few people gasped.

"We managed to escape. We made it back to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore had been weakened by the potion, and Draco had been plotting. He had managed to fix the Vanishing Cabinet that was in the Room of Requirement. Its match was in Knockturn Alley. He managed to use it to get death eaters into the castle. The Order, the teachers, and some students were in the middle of a battle when we returned. We were in the Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore forced me to hide and made me swear that I would not move or reveal myself no matter what happened. Draco showed up. He told Dumbledore that if 'I don't kill you, he'll kill me.' Still, Draco was lowering his wand when Snape showed up. Draco had already disarmed Dumbledore, so it was quite easy for Snape. One Killing Curse, and Dumbledore's dead body was crashing through the window and falling to the ground below."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Most people had tears in their eyes. Sirius looked to be barely restraining himself from attacking Snape who was keeping a shield up around himself. Harry was watching closely for any sign that Snape was about to be attacked. He wished he could reveal the truth now, but he knew Teddy had a reason for asking him to wait.

"I tried to attack Snape. I didn't work out the way I wanted of course. The death eaters escaped. The only casualty was Dumbledore. During the battle, though, Bill had a confrontation with Greyback."

Molly gasped and reached for Bill as did Arthur.

Remus cringed, thinking the worst.

"In the time I came from, Bill's face is badly scarred, and he prefers his meat quite rare. But that is the extent of the repercussions."

Everyone sighed in relief.

"Dumbledore was buried on Hogwarts's grounds. At his funeral, the new minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, basically asked me to be poster child for the Ministry. That didn't turn out too well for him. I decided that I wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts for my seventh year, that I needed to find and destroy the horcruxes so that Voldemort could finally be defeated for good. Ron and Hermione decided they were coming with me." Harry paused here, needing to take a small break.

Sirius took the opportunity and exploded. "Snape, you traitor! How dare you?! You-"

Harry interrupted his godfather. "Sirius, do you honestly believe that I would be protecting from everyone here if he didn't deserve to be protected?"

That pulled Sirius up shot. "No," he sighed.

"Is that everything, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Not quite. You see, the locket in the basin wasn't a horcrux."

"What?!" several people shouted.

Harry quieted them. "It was a fake to replace the real one. Inside the locket was a note signed R.A.B."

"The one mentioned in the book," Ginny reminded everyone.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. The note said, 'To the Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.'"

"One of the death eaters?" Snape questioned.

Harry nodded.

"How did you know that, Snape?" Sirius asked in an accusatory tone, and everyone else gave Snape suspicious looks.

Snape looked at him and replied calmly. "Only death eaters call him the 'Dark Lord.'"

Everyone but Mad-Eye was appeased with that statement.

"Anything else, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "I'm only going to tell you this so that you're prepared when it comes up in the book. In sixth year…" Harry paused, gathering courage. "In sixth year, Ginny and I began dating."

"What?!" Bill, Fred, George, and Ron yelled.

Ron looked at Harry. "She's my sister, mate."

Harry sighed. "I know that, but I can't help who I fall for." Harry spoke to all the Weasley boys now. "I'm sorry if it upsets you, but I won't apologize for liking Ginny or for dating her. I will apologize, however, for hurting her."

Ginny had been looking down at the table, blushing, but at this, she looked up at Harry. "What does that mean?"

Harry looked at her. "I broke up with you at Dumbledore's funeral. I did it to protect you. I didn't want you to be a target for the death eaters, because you were my girlfriend. Looking back now, it was kind of stupid. I mean, all the Slytherins knew we'd been dating; they could have easily told. Regardless, I do apologize for that. I am so deeply sorry about that."

Ginny half-smiled at him. "Honestly, I'm sure I was expecting it. You are always so noble, you know. It's alright."

Harry smiled at her. By now, her brothers had calmed down.

Meanwhile, Sirius had been thinking hard about the initials R.A.B. Suddenly, it came to him: _my brother_. He looked up at Harry. "'R.A.B.'? Those are the initials of-"

But Harry didn't want him to ruin the surprise. "Yes, they are. But let's let the others figure it out when Hermione, Ron, and I do, shall we?" he interrupted.

Sirius nodded while everyone else looked a mix between confused and frustrated that they had to wait to find out what they were talking about.

Dumbledore looked around. "Are we ready to begin the next chapter?"

Everyone nodded. "Alright, who wants to read next?"

"I will," Hermione said.


End file.
